


In the Eye of the Storm

by Istra_Faemore



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Michael, Implied Relationship, M/M, little brother Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Istra_Faemore/pseuds/Istra_Faemore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's betrayal causes echoes of loss in Lucifer that threaten to break him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Eye of the Storm

Lucifer left his vessel somewhere safe and roared into his true form, all glorious wrath and righteous fury. He screamed and raged in the skies, a maelstrom of thunder, lightning and rain pounded around him, swirling with the sheer essence of his emotions. He thought Sam was different, had been trying to concoct other ways to end this, other ways to fight Michael, without possessing his dear Sam. 

Sam had stolen his heart. The first creature in more thousands of years than he could remember, had stolen the heart of the angel accused of having none. And for once, Lucifer had wished that was true, had wished that he could just put it aside, just get over the hurt, the pain. In a way, this had hurt more than Michael's caging him. That, at least, had been reasonable. But Sam had _chosen_ to love him, hadn't been bound by bonds of fellowship, of family, or purpose. 

He snorted to himself. 

The _pain_. 

A small part of himself wondered if this how Michael and his Father had felt. But no. No, they had betrayed _him_ , had said he was wrong, pushed him away. And it was his Father that had started the motions of the apocalypse many millennia before He created Lucifer. The one person who should love their child unconditionally had created him to kill his favourite brother. 

But no, no, this wasn't about his Father. This was about Sam. 

Another clap of thunder, strike of lightning and the cold, icy, righteous form of his brother mingled with his. Lucifer knew without checking that it was Michael; he'd hidden himself from all the other angels and only Michael rivalled him for sheer power. He didn't want to face Michael, to see the understanding on his face, the acceptance. He _knew_ that his brother still loved him, but to _see_ it now would destroy him. 

So he fought. He fought against Michael, against the bonds of his destiny, of the knowledge of what he would do to Sam now. He would possess the hunter, and he would never return the body. If that would be the only way he would know Sam, then he would be as close to him as he could be.

Michael allowed him to rail against him, gathered the scattered metaphysical light of his brother and held him close, his Grace washing over Lucifer in a soothing manner. Michael held him until Lucifer lacked the strength to fight the hold. And Lucifer felt comfort in being held like this by him, like the whole past few millennia had not happened; like it was just him and Michael and no one else even mattered. He'd forgotten how good Michael was at making him feel cherished. 

"Shhh, Lucifer, shhh," Michael's true voice washed over him, throbbing along every inch of his being. He didn't even try to stop the squall Lucifer's ire had formed. "I know, little brother, I know."

"Why?" Lucifer didn't even remember scraping the word out. It grated Michael. It hurt seeing his little brother, the one he practically raised, had taught sword-craft to, hurt this way. Despite the fact that they had to fight, had to try to kill each other, he loved his brother and Lucifer did not deserve the card he'd been dealt with Sam. If he wasn't needed, he would smite Sam on pure principal. 

"I don't know, little one, I don't." And he would have accepted any number of the alternatives Lucifer had been concocting to allow him his little piece of happiness with Sam. That little piece of--

\--"Michael," Lucifer warned, tiredly. He didn't want Michael to do his smiting; he was quite capable of smiting for himself, thankyouverymuch. 

"I'm sorry Lucifer. I'm sorry. You loved him," Michael cradled him close, fingers carding through what would be hair had he been wearing Nick.

"Michael." He couldn't do this, couldn't see Michael's love. It broke him...

... and it remade him.

Just for tonight, in the eye of the storm, he could hold and be held, love and be loved by his favourite brother, the one whose love he craved.


End file.
